


He Looked Right Through Me...

by BluSkates



Series: Six Kinds of Love is a fantastic read [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of past prostitution, mentions of past abduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluSkates/pseuds/BluSkates
Summary: The latest one-shot inspired by Frilly Axololt's work "Six Kinds of Love" in which Yuuri and Yuri were taken as slaves and liberated by Viktor Nikiforov.  This work follows Frilly's most recent post in which Isaac accosts Yuuri at a diner while ignoring Chris.





	He Looked Right Through Me...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frilly_Axolotl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frilly_Axolotl/gifts).



> Thank you to Denrhea for reading this over last minute for me. Thank you to Frilly for letting me play in her universe.

“He looked right through me.” Chris said almost to himself.

“Hmm?” Viktor darted his eyes from the road, to the rearview mirror to check on Yuuri, who still looked a little pale, to Chris then back to the road. He was a confident driver, which was ironic since much like most confident drivers, he was terrible at it.

Chris snuck a glance in the back seat, Yuuri was still pale, but Phichit was doing a good job trying to break his concentration with chatter and videos of hamsters. The Swiss man felt assured continuing their conversation in French without alarming either of the passengers in the back. “He looked right through me. He didn’t recognize me. He actually asked if we knew each other.”

Viktor chewed his lip and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. They drove out of the city and followed the less maintained country roads leading to the estate. They would be on the road for a short while, but long enough for Chris to think over today, and the chance meeting… that he suspected was not so chance.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked, flicking a glance at him.

Chris considered the question. “I don’t know.”

 

The trip took less time than they had planned. Yuuri seemed to settle into an uneasy quiet as they approached the house. He had only seen the home from the outside once before, when he was driven up here by Matiev and Isaac. That first drive was a horrible memory, torn between hoping this new master would choose him to end the hell he had lived for more than a year and the hope that Yuri would be taken to spare him from the torture. Yuuri caught his reflection in the glass of the car window, he looked more like himself. He was healthier, beginning to get a healthy weight back, and some of his color.

_Well, I look human enough._

“...so two of the brown, but then the one with black legs, and… Yuuri?” Phichit reached out to touch Yuuri’s arm.

Yuuri flinched at the touch, but steadied himself and smiled an apology. “Sorry Phichit. I’m just jumpy I guess.”

Phichit accepted the lie without pushing knowing that the raven haired man would open up when he was ready.

Yuuri went back to watching the scenery. The house was enormous, it reminded him of the large sprawling estates of Austen’s England. Darcy’s Pemberly was its equal. Yuuri found himself wishing he was visiting this estate as an equal, or at least as a human. He was property, and the lowest form of it. He was entertainment, and when the fun ran out, he was food for the dogs.

_That’s unkind. Viktor’s given you no reason to believe he’s anything other than what he presents himself to be._ Yuuri felt the threat of danger and death leave him. But he couldn’t shake off the depression that came with denigration.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Phichit asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

 

Chris kissed Phichit on the forehead and rubbed his shoulders. “I want some time to work through what I’m feeling. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”

“Okay.” Phichit stepped back, giving the man the space he learned he needed at moments like this. “Promise you’ll call out to us if you get stuck?”

“Of course.” Chris ascended the stairs to the attic room he had claimed as his own after he realized that this would be the last house he would ever enter. He could feel the concerned brown eyes follow him up as he disappeared behind his studio’s doors.

_It’s not that I want to shut you out._ He ran a hand through the two toned hair that grew into a messy mop on top of his head. Smiling he recalled Phichit asking to trim it only a few days ago. _But I have to understand how I feel about this before I can invite you into it._

Chris studied himself in the mirrors at the bar. He looked at the stripper pole in the center of the room. _How did Viktor talk his father into that purchase?_ The pole was smooth and cool to the touch. He pulled his muscular frame up, bending his legs to point his toes out, slowly allowing his body to spin lazily to the floor. Reaching out above his head he arched his back to lower his head to the floor, pressing his shoulders back. The long, lithe legs rose and his torso followed. Chris pushed his palms into the dance floor to stabilize his position, legs shooting straight up to the ceiling as he rested his weight on his shoulders. The position felt good, it showed him how strong he was, how much he could push on himself, rely on himself. _I’ve come so far, grown so much. No wonder he didn’t recognize me. I’m not a child, half starved, scared out of his mind. Ready to fall for whatever line some asshole sells me._

He breathed out, letting that last bitter thought go. Releasing he allowed his legs to rock to the floor and the momentum pulled him into a standing position. The left leg stepped forward and the right foot grazed against the floor, slightly behind it. _So why am I mad? Why do I care that he didn’t seem to see me at all? What was I hoping for? Validation, not from that piece of shit. I didn’t envy Yuuri, he seemed horrified. So what did I want him to see?_

The body in the mirror looked strong. It was tanned, fit, healthier than it had ever been. There were faint traces of scars across his legs and chest, hidden by clothing, small reminders of the battles fought both here and at home.

_Home._ Chris remembered his youth in Switzerland. An alcoholic mother, no father. Coming home one day to see an empty apartment. His room tossed, the money he had hidden under the mattress gone. A neighbor found him and called the police. He moved from several homes and residential placements to finally finding himself living on his own in a flat with six other boys…some were men. Some didn’t keep their hands to themselves.

Chris examined the small scar above his left eyebrow. The first man he had to say _no_ to. He didn’t win that fight. Brushing back his hairline he saw the silvery scar near the edge of his scalp. The first time he said _no_ and was able to make sure that man _heard_ him.

Two years of living in that flat taught him how to hide his money, and how to earn it. He was young, he was beautiful, and he was beguiling. It was easy to find a man to live off of. Let the other boys walk the streets and hope that the attorneys working late shifts would give them a fiver for putting them over their desks. Chris would be in a warm bed, in his own flat waiting on his lover as a kept man. It took him only a few months, a couple of borrowed suits, the right vocabulary, and a flirty manner to land the first man.

Laurence Haas. _Laurie. Laurie with brown hair and a simple smile._ Laurie had been a psychology student. Chris had been in the bar, hanging off the arm of the man he walked in with. Laughing at the insipid jokes, trying to be attracted, but reminding himself of the money. Laurie caught his eye. Chris couldn’t resist and went home with him, only to find out that he was a penniless student.

Laurie knew what Chris was. He didn’t like it, but he loved Chris. Chris met with his men, finally finding one that offered all he wanted. The warm flat, nice clothing, a decent allowance, and best of all he was married. At first Chris was careful. Meeting Laurie at his tiny flat, eating at the cheap sushi place Laurie loved, watching those horrid scifi movies from America. Eventually Chris got sloppy. Laurie and he would make love through the night and into the wee hours of morning. He would have to kick him out, missing the Mister far too close, having to explain clothing that didn’t fit him, a cologne he didn’t wear.

It was surprising going on a trip. The Mister liked to take Chris along, a glittering toy to show off. The young boy growing into that sinfully manly body. When the Mister suggested Russia, Chris didn’t bat an eye. When the Mister suggested separate room at the hotel, Chris didn’t bat an eye. When the Mister asked him to fetch something from the car leaving him in the parking lot, Chris didn’t bat an eye. When the club broke over the crown of his head, when he was dragged into the van, when he was stripped naked still unconscious and readied for market, Chris didn’t bat an eye.

Chris looked at his reflection, running his hand over the spot that had been knocked violently so long ago. Occasionally he would think it was still tender. He walked to the bar, assumed first position and rose on his toes. He ran through the extensions, rose and turned. He started at the form in the doorway.

“I’m sorry.” Yuuri stuttered from the doorway, turning to leave.

“No. Please stay.” Chris held out a hand. “I know you’ve wanted to use this room.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “It’s yours...I wouldn’t...I don’t want to intrude.”

Chris walked over. “Viktor is sincere in what he means, but nothing in this house is mine. Just like it isn’t yours either.” He watched Yuuri’s eyes close, his breathing even out. “I don’t mean to hurt you…”

 

“No. It’s nice to be understood.” Yuuri’s brown eyes rose to capture the hazel. “He’s nice, generous to a fault. But…”

“But gifts can be taken away. Privileges are not rights.” Chris took Yuuri’s hand and began walking backwards, the smaller man followed him until the two stood before the bar, examining themselves in the mirror.

“I can’t feel safe, even here.” Yuuri looked at himself. He hadn’t had an opportunity to see his entire body since being taken. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of himself in one of the windows of the house he was kept in with Matiev and Isaac. He knew he was pudgy when they first took him, and that they starved him with half portions until he was the body style Isaac wanted. That final illness had taken what little there was of him almost away, and then his inability to eat almost finished him.

The man before him was still lean, but he had color, his eyes were bright, clear. There was no sign of the bloodshot horror that trauma had etched there. The lines around the eyes smoothed out, the cheeks filled in. His hair was fuller, darker. Yuuri looked at his hands and grasped the bar.

“Home, Hasetsu. I took ballet classes with Ms. Minako.” Yuuri remembered the lovely teacher that always pushed. “She was a professional who traveled the world at one time. I envied her.”

“You wanted to travel?”

Yuuri shrugged, “Yes, but...she was so confident. She never let anything bother her or stop her. I feel like I’ve lived a life of self doubt. And now…” Yuuri dropped his gaze back to the bar.

“Now you feel it’s over. You’ve escaped the nightmare only to find yourself in a peaceful dream, but still asleep, not living.”

Yuuri’s eyes darted up to the kind face, his eyes were misting over. “You understand.”

“Of course I understand.”

Yuuri bit his lip, “I’m sorry. It’s just, Yuri expresses his outrage, Phichit seems so happy…”

Chris laughed at that. “Well, I’ll give you that. Phichit was saved from the true horrors of this life when Viktor picked him up at the harbor. And Little Yuri is very free with his feelings of rage. I’m not entirely certain he understands his life…” Chris caught the mirth that lit up Yuuri’s eyes and the laughter that was bubbling in his throat. Two hands left the bar and covered the small mouth of the Japanese man. Chris grabbed at the hands to free the laughter. “What? What have I said that finally, at long last, got you to laugh?”

Yuuri practically doubled over in hysterics. “Forgive me. I’m sorry...but he’s going to be in such a temper.” The laughter escaped again, Yuuri struggled a hand free to wipe a tear away. “I’m terrified to tell him, but I really want to see the reaction...Little Yuri.” He exploded again into laughter.

Chris’s eyes twinkled, the closed as he laughed as well. “Oh God, don’t tell him. He’ll kill me in my sleep!”

“He’s not that calculating, he’ll just stab you right in the front hall!” Yuuri erupted with laughed, Chris responding in kind. The two men fell into each other’s arms, then collapsed on the floor. Each envisioning the angry blond’s face rumpling into rage, then the angry mouth producing endless profane threats of violence and death.

“Did you know he attacked Otabek?” Chris said as they laid on the floor. Yuuri, feeling comfortable rested his head on the man’s chest.

“No. What happened?”

“The first day you were here. You were...out of it. Otabek took Yuri to another room so Viktor could get you settled for the doctor.” Chris felt the little man grow stiff at the memory of those early days. He put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and was happily surprised to feel Yuuri’s hand over his. “Otabek put him in his bedroom downstairs. He went to grab his phone when Yuri pounced on him, then tried to jump out a window.”

Yuuri snorted and chuckled, “That’s Yurio.”

The two men giggled a little longer, remaining on the floor and allowing their bodies to settle. Each had a troubled mind walking into the room, neither was completely alright with the day.

“It was like I was all he could see.”

“He didn’t see me at all.”

_I don’t know how to feel about that._

**Author's Note:**

> There's a darker piece to this puzzle that I've been toying with posting here. Frilly had made mention of it in a previous chapter. Yuuri, having upset Isaac must go and beg his forgiveness and seduce the man to save Yuri from a horrific rape. I want to write it, but I also don't.


End file.
